


Love is Selfish.

by terrifying_pearl



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Back to the streets where we began, Heavy Angst, Paranormal, Suicide, confessions from beyond the grave, ghost Larry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 03:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19967266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrifying_pearl/pseuds/terrifying_pearl
Summary: Sal can’t get over Larry’s death. First, his mother. His face. Now his best friend. But what can be done once the one you love has already died? He figures it out.





	Love is Selfish.

When Larry passed, Sal felt broken. Estranged from everything he knew. He didn’t know how long he spent in that treehouse, gripping the bottle he’d found and asking why. Ash had to be called in to drag him out many times following the incident—yet he always found himself back there. 

“Why? Did you find what you were looking for? You promised we’d be side by side forever! I can’t do this shit alone!” Sal shouted, punching the wall. “It isn’t fucking fair! How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me—loved all of us...”

“I wanted to see if he would bring back my dad.”

Sal jumped, spinning around on his heel and glancing around the treehouse. 

“Larry..?” He wiped the mask with his sleeve to get it dry. “Where...”

“Here, dork,” Larry murmured, sitting in the corner. He motioned for Sal to do the same. 

Sal was...hesitant. If he had to see Larry melt away like so many other spirits...he didn’t know if, mentally, he’d survive. Regardless, he slowly walked over and sat next to his best friend. 

“Why did you leave me, Larry? Why..? You promised...you PROMISED.”

“I know, Sal,” Larry looked off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I told you. I wanted to see if he’d bring my dad back. Make my mom happy. Maybe things would’ve been normal.”

“He? Who could help you when you’re dead?!”

“...I mean, my family isn’t super religious or anything. But, Mom said I felt completely lost, turn to God or whatever. And praying felt useless. No one was listening. I just thought, maybe...”

“Maybe if you fucking off yourself you’ll get the chance to meet God? Are you insane?” Sal took off his mask with shaky hands, glaring at Larry. “If there was a ‘God,’ would he have let this happen? Would he have made me lose my mom over such a—such a stupid mistake? Would he have your dad disappear? Would he let this fucking pit of spirits and cults exist?”

“He doesn’t. You’re right. All these spirits are in purgatory forever, ‘cause there’s no heaven or hell to go to.”

“So...that...you mean—“

“Me too, yeah,” Larry confessed. “It was like, I had these high hopes. Fuck, Mom’s going to be even more upset now—she lost my dad, now she lost me.”

“You were stupid,” Sal muttered, looking at the ground. 

“I know—I’m sorry, Sal.” Larry reached over, trying to comfort him by cupping his cheek. But his hand went right through him. He quickly retracted it, joining Sal in silent condemnation of the situation. 

Neither of them knew how long they sat there. Just existing—barely. Sal clutching his mask like it was the last physical thing he had, Larry feeling nothing short of complete despair. 

“I guess I couldn’t handle it anymore,” Larry finally broke the uncomfortable silence. 

“What do you mean...” Sal’s throat felt dry, he could barely get the choked words out. 

“Everything...the cult, the apartments, the ghosts...I didn’t wanna let that shit get to me, I wanted to support you. But I just couldn’t. And after the whole...murder pony shit...what if I really falsely accused someone..? I’m supposed to live with that?”

“That wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t what it seemed to be, it was—“

“Regardless, Sal!” Larry frowned, sighing deeply. “I couldn’t, Sally, I couldn’t live with any of it. I’m not as strong as you.”

“I was only strong because I /had/ you!” A sob escaped Sal’s throat again. “But now what do I have?! They all feel so twisted, Larry! No one in this apartment feels human anymore! You were all I had...” Sal pulled his legs close to him, his head buried in his knees. “...I loved you, Larry...”

“I /love/ you, Sal. There’s so past tense needed. I still love you!”

“Not enough to try to fucking talk to me about ending your life..? About everything that was bothering you?!”

“It’s not that easy! You know that better than anyone! Not all of us have medication to bring us back up from those low moments.”

“You...” Sal stood up, backing away. His eyes were full of anger. “You’re...really bringing that up?”

“Sal come back, be careful!” Larry shouted, alarmed as he himself jumped up. He tried running over to Sal, but he wasn’t fast enough. He wrapped his arms around the other right before he fell, only to watch Sal slip through his nearly transparent arms, falling out of the entrance onto the ground below. 

Larry stared blankly at his own hands, trembling. His mind was flooded with thoughts—if he’d been alive, he could’ve held him and not let him fall. Was Sal dead? He heard the cracking and crunching sounds when Sal landed, but...these people needed Sal! ...he couldn’t call for help, either—even if Sal was alive, just barely, he couldn’t do anything. 

He backed away slowly, feeling nauseous. Seeing all of that red around Sal’s blue hair...how twisted it seemed. He went back to where they had been sitting, staring at the mask Sal had left. Out of curiosity, he reached over to touch it and found that he could interact with it. 

Larry’s brows furrowed in confusion. If it was part of the living world, how could he...unless Sal..?

He dashed over to a mirror that hung on the wall and looked at himself. His eyes—didn’t look dead. In fact, it was strange that he could see himself at all. He pressed a finger against the almost shockingly cold glass of the mirror, and he knew for a fact that Sal had done something. 

He hurried out of the treehouse, running into the apartment and crying for someone to help Sal. But nobody listened or cared. The deterioration of the human psyche was evident. He ran—not knowing how far or where. He just ran. Until he couldn’t anymore, until his knees gave out and he dropped on the sidewalk. 

“Sal...Sal, no, this wasn’t the way...” Larry clutched his hair, tears hitting the pavement fast as rain. “I didn’t need to live. They needed /you/.”

But some things don’t end how we’d like them to. And, in life, that’s something you have to get used to. To give your life for someone you love—is it worth it? Or is it inherently the same as ending your own life to accomplish a selfish motif, like Larry himself had done? 

Oh, well.


End file.
